


Her Dragon

by RishiDiams



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 20:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RishiDiams/pseuds/RishiDiams
Summary: She'd recognize her dragon anywhere.





	Her Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> So, [this poem](http://floydllawtonarchive.tumblr.com/post/84188423859) floated into my corner of Tumblr three years ago. I wrote a quick thing in the tags, scribbled down about 1500 words in a WIP folder, and, as Caedmon would say, "shoved it in a drawer." Many of you know how laughably long (and growing) my WIP list is, but I promised myself I'd get back to it. A few days ago, Fleur poked me about it and I caved to the realization that I was _never_ going to actually make a full-length fic out of it. So, I cleaned up what I had, and here it is.

“Do you understand what it is you ask of me, Dragon?”

“Yes,” he replied, the S sibilant and drawn out in annoyance.

“Why do you do this?”

He shifted restlessly and turned his face, jerking back to look at the witch when she began to laugh.

“Bathe in the pond at daybreak,” she said, her voice still filled with mirth. “The pure waters will wash away your scales.”

He nodded and thanked her. The next morning he waited until the very instant the light broke over the horizon then slithered into the water. But no matter how much he scrubbed, there was no change, and he raged and thrashed in the water, his screams echoing off of the nearby mountains.

His anger at the witch who had lied to him was so complete that he didn’t see when the archer hidden in the trees drew back his bow. The arrow flew, struck true, and the Dragon of Gallifrey was no more.

* * *

Rose sat on the dais in the main hall of her mother’s castle, Prince James to her right, as one by one vassals and knights came forward to swear a vow of fealty to the man who would be their king. Nothing was needed of her, save to look the part of the princess, so she found herself quite bored, her mind wandering to the same place it had gone ever since Prince James had brought her ‘home’: her dragon.

She had not yet figured out a way to return to him, but she would. Before the wedding.

A murmur started at the back of the room and worked its way forward, the crowd parting and reforming so that a bubble made its way to the dais. And when the bubble burst at the foot of the steps, a single man strode forward from it. He was tall and not unattractive, strong cheekbones and a proud nose drawing her eye.

Unchallenged, even though many men had been waiting for hours for their turn, the stranger walked up the four steps to the top of the dais, his eyes never wavering from Prince James’ form until he stood before him… and took one large step to the left. The prince began to sputter, but the stranger was already kneeling before Rose, his head bowed.

“Your Highness,” he said, his voice oddly accented, “I have naught but my home and a few pieces of gold, but they and I are yours.”

Surprise flitting about her features, Rose looked between the steadily reddening face of her fiancé and her mother’s sour expression from where she sat to their left. Then she looked back down at the man before her.

“Good sir, I do not even know your name.”

“I have none, Highness, save one you would deign to give me.”

“This is preposterous!” James shouted.

Slowly, the stranger lifted his head. Rose gasped and then she laughed aloud for the first time since returning to court, the sound reverberating off of the rafters, for the fire in his gaze was as familiar as her own.

“How?” she breathed, and then before he could answer, “Why?”

His lips curled into a self-deprecating grin.

The world around them chose that moment to reassert itself in the form of Prince James demanding answers. Rose blinked in surprise to find herself standing only a few inches away from the man who knelt before her.

“Mother,” she said, ignoring James’ ranting entirely, “for years many brave men have tried and failed to rid us of the dragon that has plagued our lands. I believe you promised a reward?”

“I did. The castle Gallifrey itself, once it was cleared of the dragon’s filth –”

The nameless man’s lips twisted into a snarl, but with only a small gesture Rose calmed him. The Queen never even noticed.

“– and a boon.”

“Thank you, Mother. I think if you were to send a scout to Gallifrey you would find the dragon has gone.” She looked down, her eyes wide, as the magnitude of what had happened finally hit her. “Never to return?”

His eyes slid shut as he shook his head slowly from side to side.

Rose’s eyes welled with tears. Without thinking of their audience, she cupped his cheek. “You shouldn’t have.”

“How could I not?” he whispered back.

Her hand was torn away from his face, her body whirled around to face her furious fiancé.

“Explain yourself,” James barked.

This time there was no conciliatory gesture she could have possibly made to forestall the nameless man’s reaction. She felt him stand and the next thing she knew he stood between her and James, the hand James had gripped now held firmly within his own.

“Prince James,” she said over his shoulder, “allow me to introduce my champion, Lord Theta, the new Dragon of Gallifrey.”

Even though Theta held no weapons and made no move to attack, James took a single step backward.

A slight tensing of the fingers threaded between hers was the only reaction he gave to the name she’d bestowed on him. It was an old legend, a fairy tale really, about a man - Theta - who’d left his home in search of fortune. For years he’d been believed lost at sea only to return triumphant and marry his love. Her dragon had told her the story one night when she’d laid curled against the warmth of his scaly body in the main hall of his castle.

With a gentle tug, she pulled Theta’s attention away from James. And, in a motion as natural as though he’d done it a thousand times, he turned, wrapped his arm around her waist, and held her close.

She breathed him in, a scent so different from the one she was accustomed to. But even though he wore clothing instead of scales and he no longer radiated the heat of a blacksmith’s fire, for the first time in weeks she felt safe and protected again.

Rose made no move to leave Theta’s arms, but she leaned back so that she could see her mother from where she stood. “For his boon, Mother, allow him to keep the dragon’s treasure as a wedding present, because, you see, he already holds my heart, I would give him my hand as well.”

“You are promised to me!” James protested.

With a tiny pat of her hand on Theta’s chest, she stepped away from him. He let her go, but kept his fingers twined with hers.

“A promise I never made that was based on a lie you told. Or do you deny that you claimed to have killed the dragon, a dragon we have all seen sieging the castle these last few days?”

James’ mouth gaped like a fish’s.

“I was safe and I was happy when you stole me away from Gallifrey like a thief in the night. You lied to my mother, and I would rather have died than married you.”

The Queen had joined them on the dais. “She’s right, you know, slaying the dragon was one of the conditions I set. If this Theta has indeed removed the creature, then her hand belongs to him.”

Still James could form no words.

“Remove him!”

* * *

Rose woke and stretched her hand across the bed only to find it empty and the sheets cold. Looking around the room, she spotted her husband standing at the window, silhouetted by the moonlight.

She slipped from the bed and padded over to him. “I’m sorry.”

Theta turned and pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss into her hair. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“You gave it all up for me.”

“No, I gave it all up for me, for a chance to be happy for the first time in my very long life.”

“You’ll never fly again.”

“That’s not true, love. I fly every time you take my hand.”


End file.
